Masks
by Alyss Penedo
Summary: Being left behind hurts. And without their friends to walk with them through the years, they can only turn to their own ways to escape the past...


**A/N: **...I don't even know what this is. Well, enjoy anyways :P

This is really AU-ish, and not half as original (or out-of-the-blue) as it seems. A lot of inspiration for many themes in this sorta came from Hane no Zaia, my favorite DGM author~ though you don't have to know her or read any of her stuff to (-be just as confused while attempting to-) read this.

**Warnings: **Confusion (ranging from mild to total), total OOC-ness, and implicit character death,

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"Whad'r you doin'?" Steely silver eyes locked impassively with the bright blue ones of a wary teenager. They frowned, though the face they decorated remained frigid behind its mask.

"You've picked up quite the accent since I last saw you," the cloaked figure murmured by way of greeting. He lifted his gaze from the annoyed teen and resumed his interrupted contemplation of the stars.

"N' you haven't changed a bit. Still brushin' off my questions, same as always." The ensuing silence was heavy with implication and expectation; both of which the silver-eyed figure pointedly ignored. Then, flashing from impassive to flamboyant as though a switch had been flipped, the prone figure abruptly shot up from where he'd lain, rolling to his feet with a grace born from years of practice. He casually sidestepped off his perch, falling several meters before landing, catlike, next to the dark-haired teen. Said teen remained unimpressed by the young man's antics, merely quirking an eyebrow and shooting off a short, "Well?"

"Since you've obviously assumed that I won't answer, I figure I might as well oblige," he smirked, straightening. The teen scowled. "What," he snapped, each word enunciated as clearly as a gunshot, "Do. Ya. _Want?"_ The last word came out as a low, short snarl.

The taller of the two shrugged as he brushed his stark hair from his face, his sable cloak shifting with the movement. His grin was mocking, edged with self-deprecation, and made his domino mask dig lightly into his cheekbones. "What do I want?" Tone dripping with sarcasm, the grinning figure tipped his head jauntily to one side as if considering the question, though his eyes remained cold. "Why, however should _I _know?"

The younger of the pair heaved an exasperated sigh as he leaned back against the ledge of the roof. Wrapped in a silence that an outsider might have considered strained, they studied each other intently, though the younger did not take nearly as many pains to hide his dissatisfied scrutiny as did his older counterpart. Finally, the taller broke off his searching gaze to move forward and lean against the ledge as well, chin cradled in his palm as he gazed down at the fluorescent streets-streets that the younger had turned his back on in favor of eyeing the other night-darkened rooftops.

"Yer hair's white this time around?" It wasn't a question.

"I thought I'd go for a more _natural _look," he drawled, somehow mixing both distant politeness and sarcasm. "Doesn't it suit me?"

The teen snorted. "It suits an old man. Or some circus clown." He shot the other a pointed look. "Guess it does suit ya, then."

The elder frowned, for all appearances not appreciating the jab (though his eyes remained as unmoved as before). As if in retaliation, the shadowy-bleached figure poked the other in the forehead, aiming for and missing the bulge that sat right in between two of the stripes on his bandana. "This isn't one of yours, is it?"

The boy blinked, startled, as he automatically reached up to swat the offending hand and adjust the displaced headgear. "Ya noticed? Didn't think ya care enough ta' see past yer own mask these days..."

"No, you're mistaken. I merely recognize it; that headband was Lavi's, wasn't it? You two had different tastes when it came to bandanas; possibly because you had diffent reasons to wear them. After all, Lavi never did try to hide anything behind a flimsy piece of cloth. No, wait," he amended deliberately. "There _was_ the eye patch..." He poked the teenager again, this time with better accuracy, and felt the small, ungiving bulge through the striped cloth. The boy smacked his hand away.

"Cuddit out!"

"I trust you don't mean that literally?" He snickered dryly, hiding his mental wince at the thought of the younger boy with a bloody hole in his forehead.

They both fell silent for a moment, instantly somber. The quiet was tenser this time, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Then, in a deliberate and carefully blank voice, the man quiered, "Say…where's my dog?" Surprised, the teen shot a searching look at the man, silently noting the way the city seemed to illuminate the gleaming mask, yet cast his real features in shadow. He looked away.

"Dead," he replied brusquely. "How'n why'r none of your beeswax, though, cuz' he was _my _dog."

He could feel the sidelong glance those silver eyes gave him. He didn't return it.

"...Oh? And just when did _that _happen?" The young adult asked evenly, looking away.

The teen shrugged."You went and left it w't me for years; Mana ain't yours no more." The teen shot the man a provocative look, as though daring him to say otherwise. Disappointingly, those silver eyes remained emotionless, no longer flickering away from the busy streets below.

"I...see. Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter, seeing as the dog's dead either way."

The teen glared at him, looking not unlike a child half his age. Almost accusingly, he says, "You've changed."

"Hoh~?" Suddenly brimming with amusement, the man lolled his head slightly to face the child-teen next to him, his impassive eyes betraying his teasing tone and haughty smirk. "Didn't you say a minute ago that I hadn't changed at all? If anyone's changed, it's you. After all, it certainly seems like you've changed _far_ more than I have."

The teen waved his hand dismissively at that, in his usual _don't-sweat-the-small-stuff _manner.

"Itzda' same thing. Point being, I just really can't... see..." The teen slowly tipped his head back, his raven hair trailing over the edge to the roof, as he morosely studied the stars that the other had watched so intently from his previous position atop the doorway to the roof. He sighed, and murmured quietly, "...I really can't see the you I know -_knew-_ in _you _no more. 'Specially not the way ya'r now."

The young man was silent at that. The teen leaned over, one hand reaching for the mask that decorated the other's face. When his grasping fingers were stopped by the other's iron grip, he let his hand be pushed away. "We haven' seen each other in, like, forever. Whaddar' you like now? You still at all like I rememb'r? Like _they'd _rememb'r? Who...are you under that mask, really?"

Again the figure was silent. Abruptly, he turned to leave, cloak swirling in his wake. The teen, watching him stalk away, sighed quietly. The man paused, one hand fingering the knob. He chuckled once, cold and humorless, before echoing the teen's sigh.

"These days, I hardly know that myself." And then he left.

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**A/N: **I know, you're all confused. As I am not my cryptic, self-appointed beta, (which is debatable, actually, but we'll pretend for simplicity's sake) I will do some clarifying~

Obviously, one of them is Allen. And the other's Timothy. And this didn't actually start out as the two of them; it was an assignment I did for Writer's Workshop _years _ago (and 'Timothy' was a girl in the original XP). Which is why the writing style might be a little wonky-this is _old_. I just figured I could make it fit (-kinda-) if I did some editing...

So! The head-backstory-thing I had in mind when patching up: It's after the war. Presumably, the Innocence has won, the Earl is defeated, the Noah have all returned to their previous all-human counterparts, yadda yadda yadda. Also presumed is that most of the exorcists have died (or something equally if not more horrible, I'm sure) in the attempt, leaving only poor Allen and Timothy (and maybe others; don't know, don't care) to live on. Which they are doing... in a warped kinda sense.

...I just really wanted to play with the mask concept, and everything else kinda got thrown in for the ride XP

And, (and I probably should've said this _before _I explained my version of the events) I'd like to know what you guys thought was going on. Because, like I said, the backstory just kinda came later...


End file.
